


I know...

by Unparalena



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii / Geralt of Rivia, Oneshot, Romance, Yennefer z Vengerbergu / Yennefer of Vengerberg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28956381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unparalena/pseuds/Unparalena
Summary: Inspired by S1 E6 of the Netlfix adaptionWhat if our favorite couple would've met in the 21st century under completely different circumstances? What if they'd still be linked by destiny? What if suddenly feelings come into play?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	I know...

The hotel room was in almost complete darkness, and without the faint moonlight streaming through large windows, one wouldn't be able to see anything at all. It was a spacious room, worth the price in any case, but except for the suitcase in the corner, the bed's rumpled sheets, and the clothes scattered on the floor, it was untouched. She rarely stayed for more than one night. Modern art pieces adorned the wall, but Geralt didn't care much about them. The big city's noise was barely audible on the 65th floor, and so the silence was only interrupted by the air conditioner's subtle hum. A scent of lilac and gooseberries lingered in the air.

Yennefer was beautiful. Her pale, even skin shimmered in the light, pitch-black curls spilling over her narrow shoulders. She lay beside him in bed, half on her stomach, half on her side, her naked body barely covered with a corner of the blanket. The piercing, violet eyes were closed, and her breath was steady and even. Geralt sighed heavily. Beautiful. He wanted to reach out and touch her, even though he already knew what every inch of her skin felt like. But each time, it seemed less enough, each time he wished the night had more hours. It had been almost three years now since they'd first met...

_"Damn, watch it, you...!," Yennefer's words stuck in her throat as she looked into those amber eyes. It was a dry, cloudy day in the exciting urban core of New York City. Thanks to the heavy traffic, she'd decided to leave extra early for the meeting to make sure she'd be on time and still have a chance to grab a coffee. The day before, she'd noticed the small cafe across the company's headquarters; it seemed like a haven of peace in the otherwise bustling street. But now, the steaming latte macchiato she'd been too eager to try was pouring down her blouse. Faced with the burning pain, she squinted her eyes and was getting ready to insult whoever she'd bumped into, but the man took her breath away for a brief moment._

_"Excuse me..." he murmured, in a rough and deep voice that caused a pleasant tingling in her stomach. Nevertheless, she quickly managed to catch herself and attend to the real problem. She took a step back and surveyed him with still narrowed eyes._

_"Can't you see straight?" she asked, without expecting an answer. "I have an important meeting in half an hour!"._

_"Hmm..." The man retorted, burying his hands in the pockets of his torn jeans, obviously unimpressed by her cutting tone. "You wouldn't happen to have a spare blouse hidden in your handbag, would you?" His smirk was barely visible, yet Yennefer noticed, and it only made her angrier. Her unusual eyes sparkled wickedly, and he'd rather not find out what happened if he kept teasing her. She tossed the black curls out of her face and replied snappily:_

_"Do I look like I have? "_

_He didn't miss the opportunity to check her out. Her hair was loose, and the tight curls framed her stern, narrow face. As far as he could tell, her makeup was very precise, her eyebrows neatly traced, and her thin lips emphasized with a blood-red lipstick. Her blouse had probably been white before the unfortunate collision, and over it, she wore a black blazer with delicate embellishments on the fabric. The pencil skirt, also black, was slit to mid-thigh on one side, revealing the lace-trimmed end of her stockings. Despite the high-heeled shoes with red soles, she was still about a head shorter than him. Instead of an answer, the guy was content with another smirk and said:_

_"I live right around the corner. I'm sure you'll find something to change into there. It’s Geralt, by the way."_

_Yennefer raised an eyebrow, which made her look even more severe. He was aware that this woman was probably very fastidious about her wardrobe, but given the situation, maybe she could make an exception. She seemed to have come to the same conclusion, for she nodded and followed him without another word._

_He really lived only one street away, in a small apartment on the top floor. The door creaked as they entered, and it smelled of paper, dust, and something Yennefer couldn't describe. Despite its small size, he had managed to squeeze in all sorts of things. In the messy kitchen/living room stood an old leather sofa, with a rickety coffee table groaning under the weight of numerous books, photo albums, and individual photographs. On the wall next to the front door hung only one jacket, which looked like he'd owned it for at least a decade. The kitchen area seemed mostly unused - but on the dining table, next to more books, was an opened laptop and a half-eaten pizza in its box. Several photos were pinned to the wall, and the only shelf in the room was overflowing with books. Wordlessly, Geralt motioned for her to sit on the couch after picking up a few of the photos scattered there as well and simply putting them on another pile. She complied with his request, sat down, and crossed her legs. As she did so, the slit in her skirt exposed not only her stockings but also a fair bit of her pale thigh. Yennefer seemed to be perfectly aware of this and twisted her thin lips into an almost imperceptible smile. Geralt cleared his throat and stammered:_

_"I'll go find something to wear then... "_

_As he disappeared into what seemed to be the bedroom, she looked around. He didn't seem to spend much time here, and if he did, it was obviously to work. Yennefer could not deny that something about this man strangely attracted her. He wasn't particularly well dressed, nor did he have the same standard of living as she did, and yet he was handsome in his own way. She estimated him to be in his mid/late thirties at most, but his hair was already completely gray, almost white. The sides were shaved, and he'd tied the rest into a loose ponytail. Over his left eye, a subtle scar stretched down to his cheek; it had already caught her eye in the coffee shop along with his unusual eye color._

_"What do you do for a living?" she called toward the door._

_Yennefer didn't care much about relationships. On the one hand, she was on the road a lot. On the other, she'd found out early on that no man could keep up with her ego. So she concentrated on what she could do and what she enjoyed: shameless flirtation and insignificant one-night stands. She didn't get an answer to her question at first, but shortly after Geralt returned, a white shirt on a hanger in his hand._

_"I write travel and survival guides," he replied as he held out the shirt to her. She took it without saying anything in return and motioned for him to turn around. After taking off the blouse and making sure that, fortunately, she had not suffered any significant burns, she slipped into the shirt. Of course, it was much too big for her, but she neatly rolled up the sleeves and tucked the lower part into her skirt. It was just short enough that it didn't peek out at the leg slit. Her blazer, to her great relief, showed no signs of spilled coffee, so she pulled it over as well, closing all but the last button. Then she sighed briefly, looked at her watch, and said:_

_"I have to go."_

_Puzzled, Geralt turned around and looked at her. He'd never experienced anything comparable, but everything about this woman fascinated him. She was beautiful but also seemed aloof and distant. He knew he had to know her better at any cost. She'd already reached the end of the hall when he called after her:_

_"I'll take care of your blouse if you want. You can pick it up after the meeting, and I'll buy you another coffee - to make up for it. "_

_Slowly, she came back to him, looked at him skeptically, and thrust the blouse into his outstretched hand._

_"If you don't spill it on me this time... "_

Yennefer muttered in her sleep, and Geralt feared for a moment that she would wake up and realize he was watching her. His gaze fell on the alarm clock and then back to the woman beside him. Carefully, he slid closer to her, wrapped his arms around her body from behind, and pulled her tightly against him. Her skin was warm and soft under his fingertips, and he buried his face in her hair, losing himself in her scent. Again she murmured something unintelligible and snuggled against his chest. Although there was nothing like being so close to her, part of him wished she hadn't come back that day.

_They had coffee at Geralt's apartment and talked. Yennefer told him that she'd recently taken over the management of an international cosmetics company. Because of that, she'd been in the New York branch for three days for various essential appointments. Her coworkers often called her a cold-hearted witch, but the success she'd already achieved for the company after such a short time spoke for itself. For his part, Geralt was not particularly talkative, but she learned that he also traveled a lot and only used the apartment to work on his books for a short time before he left for his next trip. During the conversation, Yennefer slid closer and closer, her blazer already off and the top buttons of Geralt's shirt undone so far that her bra was almost visible. Geralt swallowed. He knew exactly what she was up to, and to be honest, he didn't mind. He spent little time with people on his travels, but when he was at home, he very often enjoyed the company of women. Not that he was ever particularly interested in any of them. With Yennefer, it was different, but he ignored the unfamiliar feeling in the pit of his stomach as she kissed him fiercely, and they fell back onto the couch._

_When Geralt woke up the next morning, he was still lying there naked, shivering a little. There was no sign of his bed partner, only his shirt hung neatly on its hanger on a chair, and the scent of lilac and gooseberries still lingering in the air. If only he'd known what he'd gotten himself into._

Slowly, Geralt ran his hand over Yennefer's temple, shoulder, waist, and finally rested on her thigh, on which he drew invisible circles with one finger. Unlike all the other women, he hadn't been able to get this one out of his mind since their first encounter. Right after getting up, he'd run to the company but had only learned that she'd already left for the airport early that morning. He was still ashamed of that. Only a few months later, when he'd just decided to forget her once and for all, they'd seen each other again.

_Geralt could hardly believe his eyes when, at the Buenos Aires airport's cab stand, he saw a black-curled head in front of him and immediately knew who it was._

_"Yennefer!" he exclaimed, immediately wondering if it had been the right decision, but when she turned and looked at him, all doubts were blown away. She smiled. Wordlessly, she motioned for him to get into the cab with her, and they spent the entire ride in silence as well. Arriving at the hotel, she got out and walked towards the entrance while Geralt followed her and couldn't help but feel completely out of place. He pretty much always stayed in his tent or small, run-down accommodations. He wasn't used to anything else, but as soon as they reached the hotel room the tension disappeared. He dropped his large backpack in the corner, and before Yennefer could say anything, he lifted her into his strong arms and pressed her against the wall. They both knew they should've talked, clarify all the things that had gone unspoken the last time, but they were too consumed with each other. Neither of them had experienced such a connection with anyone else before and it was almost unreal - magical. Yennefer let out a surprised sigh, but he was already muffling the sound with his lips._

_"What are you doing here...?" she murmured between kisses and wrapped her legs around his waist, clawing her hands into his t-shirt._

_"Research..." he replied, his breathing by now as heavy as her own._

_Neither of them spoke another word as they finally lost themselves entirely in each other. Sex with Yennefer was breathtaking and unlike anything Geralt had ever experienced. Usually, the women he slept with took a more passive stance, but she knew exactly what she wanted and made sure she got it. They took their time exploring each other, and eventually, she fell asleep. This time it was him who stole away, not knowing that he would regret it just a little while later. But he was afraid of what she might say when she'd wake up. That he'd have to explain what was going on inside him, when he couldn't even begin to understand it himself, so he got dressed, grabbed his backpack, and disappeared._

"Geralt...?"

She'd woken up. His hand paused, and he gave an approving grumble, a sign that he'd heard her.

"Why are you awake?" she asked, and he thought he heard concern in her voice. Or maybe just fatigue.

"I'm thinking..." he murmured into her hair, and Yennefer turned in his arm so that she could look at him in the semi-darkness. As she did so the last corner of the blanket slipped from her body, but she didn't seem to mind. Her eyes were deep and dark, and Geralt found himself almost lost in them. Gently, he brushed a black curl from her face, and his rough hand lightly touched her cheek.

"What are we doing here?" he finally said, averting his eyes from her to stare at the ceiling, which was entirely dark. He tried not to sound too distressed because he knew it would upset her but wasn't sure he'd succeeded.

"Damn it, Yen..." he added quickly. "I know we agreed, back in Saint Petersburg..." Geralt sighed heavily.

They had actually met by chance a third time, just a few months after Buenos Aires. After another passionate night, they'd had to admit to themselves that they couldn't get away from each other.

"I know we set rules. Just sex and nothing else, but..."

"But what?" She'd sat up by now, and he didn't like the look on her face at all. "What are you saying?" Her voice grew louder, firmer, more threatening.

"You're important to me..."

She faltered, her anger fading quickly. Instead, she just stared at him, perplexed, and shook her head slightly. With each meeting, she knew less of what was going on inside her. While they were together, she wanted to run away because she felt raw and vulnerable. But as soon as he was gone, she craved for the feeling. She needed him while she didn't want to need anyone.

"I don't know what to say."

He'd never heard her voice that brittle, her violet eyes full of questions he didn't know the answer to, and he sat up as well, not taking his eyes off her.

"I'm not good, Geralt...not for you and not for any..."

He interrupted her by pulling her against him, one hand in her hair, the other on her hip, kissing her as he'd never kissed her before. Gently. Lovingly. Almost sheepishly. And there it was again, the feeling of helplessness, a vulnerability that flooded through Yennefer, the feeling of being naked, not just physically. Suddenly, she wondered if what had frightened her all these years was exactly what she'd longed for so much. For the very first time, she let herself fall. But she didn't hit the ground as expected, did not splinter on a hard, cold floor. Instead, warmth flooded her, and she wrapped her arms around Geralt, pulling herself as close to him as she possibly could. He complied with her silent request, lifting her onto his lap, and they found each other. Slowly, gently, so gently that Yennefer felt like she could burst any moment. But his strong arms held her tight, he gingerly stroked her hair and whispered caresses in her ear, against her neck and collarbone. His hands roamed over her body, and it almost felt like he was touching her for the first time. He'd broken down all her walls, and each of his touches burned like fire on her skin. Soon the silence was broken only by her sighing, and Geralt's head sank exhausted onto her shoulder. For a long time, they just sat there, and the world around them blurred - unreal, inconsequential. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough and broken, yet also soft and warm.

"Yen... I..."

"I know."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
